


No prince in the ballroom

by RaspberryHeaven



Category: A Little Lily Princess (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Post-Canon, Romance, mentions of Sara/Ermengarde, mentions of Sara/Jessie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 03:37:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8952358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaspberryHeaven/pseuds/RaspberryHeaven
Summary: Being the companion of a princess is not always easy





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miss_Prince](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Prince/gifts).



“Brush my hair,” Lavinia ordered, seating herself at the dressing table and smiling.

Jessie slowly put down the brush she had been using to spread powder through her own hair. She hadn’t nearly finished brushing it through. She knew her ordinarily shining red tresses were still dull with a mixture of oil and powder. She knew any reasonable woman would object and ask to finish first. She wasn’t a servant, after all. And Lavinia had a perfectly good lady’s maid of her own, at long last.

Jessie also knew that a good, sensible dependent would put down the brush without objection and pick up Lavinia’s brush instead. So that was what she did, carefully schooling her features to show no anger, her eyes not to flash.

Lavinia had no such reason for restraint. Her dark eyes flashed in the mirror, taking in Jessie’s heightened colour, the powder lying at the roots of her hair like dandruff.

“No one does my hair like you,” she sighed, contentedly.

“You have pretty hair,” Jessie said. It was true, too. Lavinia’s hair shone like black silk. The brush merely burnished it, with no snags or tangles in the way. A suspicion nagged at the corner of Jessie’s mind that Lavinia had combed her hair already and was just teasing Jessie to see if she would rebel. It would be like her.

“I particularly want it to look pretty tonight.”

“The party.” Jessie let herself smile, her temper subsiding. This was part of what made it all worth while, accompanying Lavinia to grand and gay events, without ever facing the danger of being married off to one of the men she danced with. Lavinia knew well enough that they set each other off well, Jessie’s doll like beauty and ruddy tones contrasting beautifully against Lavinia’s dark elegance.

And then… Jessie meditatively drew the brush through Lavinia’s hair, feeling the warmth of her body just in front of her. Lavinia didn’t always hurt. She was like one of her beloved cats, scratching painfully sometimes, demanding attention and denying it in turns, but soft and purring and cuddly when she wanted to be. Lavinia, after a night of being feted and admired, and a little too much indulgence in the cup, was at her most lovable and affectionate.

Sometimes, Lavinia in those moods would wind her arms around Jessie’s neck, and let Jessie embrace her and press kisses on her cheeks and neck, until Jessie’s heart beat faster and she let herself hope, just for a moment, that Lavinia would learn to understand her feelings, that being her companion would one day be all she’d dreamed it would be back in Miss Minchin’s. She wouldn’t mind the scratches at all, if Lavinia would only kiss as well!

“The party.” Lavinia met Jessie’s eyes in the mirror, and then her gaze flickered away. “Jessie, why are you blushing?” she asked irritably. “Is there some lover you are hoping to meet?”

“There are no men in my life, Lavinia, and there never will be. I’ve told you so. Only you.” She laid her cheek on her friend’s head and closed her eyes.

“Oh. Well. Well, that’s a pity. In any case, you won’t be accompanying me tonight to meet anyone. I’ve told Aunt that you have a cold in the head.”

Jessie’s head jerked back up. “What?” Lavinia’s Aunt was their chaperone in Town; Jessie had never met Lavinia’s mother, and Lavinia never spoke of her.

“You heard me.” Lavinia’s tone was brusque, but her lashes fluttered a little, as if she was uncomfortable. Lavinia, uncomfortable? “I’m hoping Lord Charles will propose tonight, and I don’t want you there distracting attention.”

Jessie felt like she had been punched in the throat. She took a step back, her heel catching on the hem of her dress, nearly tripping her. “Y–you’re not thinking of accepting?” She tried to bring Charles up in her head–no longer young, never handsome, hard as a rock, the wrong person for someone as graceful and delicate as Lavinia. “You’re only seventeen!”

“Why not? he might be seventy before he inherits the title, but I won;t be. I have the accomplishments to be a hostess for a grand home, you know I do. I probably won’t have the chance to do better.”

Jessie blinked. “But–what about me?”

“What about you?” LAvinia hadn’t turned; her eyes still only looked at Jessie through the reflection.

“Will you take me with you?” Jessie’s hammering heart began to subside. She had no wish to reside in the countryside in some freezing grand estate, but if she was with Lavinia she could bear it. She had not imagine Lavinia marrying so young, but it would have to happen some day, and it was a thousand times better than marriage herself. Lord Charles would probably have his own affairs to occupy himself with and would not intrude too much on their lives. Jessie’s breathing began to slow. So long as she didn’t think too much about the man pawing Lavinia, she would survive.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Lavinia smiled at the mirror. “Lord Charles is a red-blooded gentleman. I have no wish to bring a red-headed companion into the household to distract him.

Maybe she could die right now, Jessie thought. A heart attack. Quicker than dying on the streets while prostituting herself, or being burned to death by gaslights as a dancer. If only Sara had consented to run away with her…

“So what becomes of me?”

“Oh, Jessie, I do believe you are truly distressed!” Lavinia rose and turned at last, and gathered Jessie into her arms. Jessie stood stiff as she would in her grave, making no attempt to return the embrace. “Silly girl, did you think this would last forever?”

“PLenty of married women have companions,” Jessie said, dully.

“Beautiful ones with red hair?” Lavinia stroked the hair back from Jessie’s face, chuckling. “Dear, we will still be best friends.”

“What becomes of me?” she repeated.

“Why, I suppose you go back to your parents, and let them find a more appealing match for you than last time. You’ve taught them a lesson about ugly suitors by running away.”

“I told you. I have no wish to marry a man.”

Lavinia’s laugh tinkled like breaking glass, although she pushed away and wouldn’t look straight at Jessie. “Girlish fancies. You’ve grown out of them now, now you’ve entered society, surely.”

“It was never a fancy. Lavinia, I love you.”

“You’re such an odd girl.” Lavinia laughed again, and sat down. “Help me dress my hair.”

Jessie gathered up the soft black hair. So thick, so silken, so un-English. Of course she would never–

Why not? Lavinia was willing to destroy her with a giggle.

“Does Lord Charles have a fancy for half-caste girls?” she asked.

The chair crashing to the ground should have been warning enough. Jessie tried to step back, but Lavinia’s entire forearm smashed across her face, which such force that Jessie cried out and fell to one knee, cradling her face.

“How did you–how dare you–how dare Sara Crewe?”

“Sara?” Jessie’s own rage began to rise in her. “Of course. You would have told Sara Crewe, wouldn’t you? Your little protegee. You pretended to hate her, you convinced me to torment her so that I lost the chance of going with her, so she chose that fat, stupid Ermengarde instead, but you were just as fascinated by her as the rest of us. You would tell her your secrets, but not me, your best friend.”

Her fury was overwhelming now, choking her. The last time Jessie had seen Sara, she had been hanging off Ermengarde’s plump arm, looking up at her round face adoringly, just like a princess looking up at the knight who had saved her. Ermengarde! The hurt and bewilderment of that moment came back and hit her full in the face that was already stinging and aching. Ermengarde had Sara, and Jessie had Lavinia, who would toss her away in a moment. Who had.

“Sara told me nothing. I guessed.”

Lavinia pressed a hand to her heart. “It’s lies. Dreadful lies. I knew Sara would spread them. I never trusted her.”

“Do you have any pictures of your mother?”

“That lying little…!”

“Would a pure English rose finish that sentence?” Beneath the pain from her head and her heart, her power was coming back to her, power so long suppressed that she had forgotten she had it. She pulled herself back to her feet and raised her chin, trying to keep her gaze level despite the involuntary tears still pricking in her eyes. “Not that you would know anything about that.”

This time, she was ready. She caught Lavinia’s wrist before the blow fell. The two girls stood there a moment, frozen, Lavinia’s black eyes spitting hate, her red lips drawn into a snarl. Jessie had never seen her look so beautiful.

Then Lavinia dissolved into tears and crumpled

Jessie was left confused, vaguely holding Lavinia’s arm still as Lavinia sank, falling back to her own knees to follow her. Lavinia cried in an ugly, uncontrolled way, tears and nose flowing–and oh, for all the ugliness of it, Jessie had never thought her so beautiful.

“So now you know,” Lavinia said. “You always admired me, and now you know I’m dirty.”

“No! Oh, Lavinia, no.” Guilt thudded in the pit of Jessie’s belly. This was what she had wanted, in her anger, wasn’t it? To hurt Lavinia, to pull her back down. And now all she could feel was tenderness and sorrow. “Darling, you’re not dirty. You’re beautiful, you’re beautiful… I’m the dirty one.”

“Why are you dirty?” Lavinia asked, simply as a child. “I saved you from being dirty. I stopped you from running away…”

“I’m dirty because I always want this.” And Jessie kissed Lavinia, right on her malicious, cruel mouth, kissed her and kissed her, tasting her tears and her bitterness, and to her dreamy amazement Lavinia’s arms came up and clung and her lips opened and responded.

“How can you love me, knowing…”

“Lavinia, I have always know the worst of you. This is nothing at all!” Jessie laughed.

“Lord Charles would not think it nothing.”

Jealousy pricked at Jessie. “Then damn him. He’d find out soon enough anyway, and do you really want a husband who will despise you and your children?”

“He loves me. I want to be loved.” Jessie had never heard such vulnerability from Lavinia, ad it gave her courage.

“I love you. And I’m not giving you to anyone who doesn’t love every bit of who you are. You always were my princess, and you always will be.”

“I stole the locket you gave to Sara. I had her punished…”

Jessie felt a moment of loss, of pain, but Lavinia was crying, Lavinia was clinging to her. Lavinia needed her, and Sara, with her loyal Ermengarde, did not. It was so precious not to be bought and sold, not to be trying to convince someone to keep her–just to be needed.

“My heart properly belongs to you, anyway, Lavvie.” She kissed her. “i think you had better tell your Aunt you have a cold, too. You look a fright.”

For once Lavinia didn’t argue. She rose and splashed water on her face, and pulled the bell to give the maid a message.

“So what now?” She was now almost humble, but there was a trace of her old spark in her eyes again.

“We face the future as it comes. We find a way. But first–now–” She sucked in her breath. She wasn’t sure what she meant, only that she wanted to be alone with Lavinia and free to touch and kiss her soft olive skin and that cruel, passionate mouth… She felt a shiver deep within, a kind of tingling yielding of her most unspoken parts, and she knew, somehow, that they would find a way. “You tell me you love me, too.”

“Of course I love you! You love me no matter who my mother was, and how bad I am.” Such truthfulness from Lavinia! Jessie could hardly believe it. “It’s what I always wanted, but I thought you would abandon me when I wasn’t useful to you,” Lavinia added with a touch of bitterness.

“I won’t!” cried Jessie. “Of course, I wanted to be like you, be with you, I thought you could rescue me from my life–but I truly love you, I swear it.”

Lavinia’s eyes lit up at that, and Jessie realised it wouldn’t be long before Lavinia was back to her arrogant, capricious self. She could have blackmailed Lavinia, could have pressed her advantage, and instead she had given it up by swearing unconditional love. Oddly, she felt that she didn’t mind. So Lavinia was conceited and arbitrary. Weren’t they parts of being a true princess, as well?

Lavinia had always been the one to be Jessie’s true princess, from the moment she had seen them.

“Come, then. Kiss me, your highness,” she said, and opened her arms and her lips to her princess.


End file.
